Grindlewylde was glad that his brother was gone. It was quiet. And he liked quiet.
Except at bedtime, when he liked to sing. His voice filled the room and it made him feel a little less lonely. Sometimes his songs made sense. And sometimes, they just didn’t. But that was okay. Because sometimes emotions don’t make sense either.
Grindlewyse tucked her son in with a kiss, and she looked sadly at his brother’s empty bed. She would miss her Grindlemyre forever. And, at that moment, Grindlewylde missed him a little too.
After she left, he started singing softly. He sang all the songs that he learned at school. Then he sang about the floor. And the curtains. He tried really hard not to sing about his brother’s bed, but he just couldn’t stop himself.
"Little bed with a cover of blue.
I miss the brother that belongs to you.
He was kind of mean and he stole my candy all the time (especially my chocolate).
But I miss him and I wish he could come back
Because I want to play with him some more.
Little bed with a cover of blue.
I miss the brother that belongs to you."
Snot bubbles came out his nose, so he stopped singing. But he still missed his brother. And he probably always would.